


"All Three of You"

by cynosure_phrases



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Babysitting, Caring Sherlock, Children, F/M, Love, One-Sided Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Parent John Watson, Parentlock, Promises, Protectiveness, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson Friendship, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-10
Updated: 2014-01-10
Packaged: 2018-01-08 04:58:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1128612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cynosure_phrases/pseuds/cynosure_phrases
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary and John want a night to themselves so they ask Sherlock to babysit little Hamish for the night, and it turns out Hamish makes Sherlock the most human he can be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"All Three of You"

Why must I take care of him? Mrs. Hudson would be more than glad! I also have an experiment. -SH

I don't care if you have half the bloody kitchen on fire, you're spending time with your Godson. -JW

Dull. Why must you insist on making  _me_ the Godfather? There are much more qualified people. -SH

You're changing the subject. -JW

Am I now? -SH

Yes, and there is no avoiding it. Hamish is staying at 221b for the night. Hoping that you haven't deleted 'Small Children' from your memory, you'll be able to take care of him, yeah? -JW

Obviously, John. I'm not an idiot. -SH

You say that now. -JW

Look, I've gotta dash. Mary wants us to be out at 6. We'll be there at 6:45, so no dangerous chemicals lying around. -JW

I can't promise anything. -SH

John chuckled as he read the last text. He didn't expect anything above that, a snarky comment. He knew that Sherlock would actually enjoy spending time with Hamish once he actually tried to. 

"Do you really think it's a good idea to leave a kid that young with Sherlock?" Mary asked as John slid his phone into his pocket. 

"You don't trust him?" John questioned.

"No, it's just... Who knows what he'll show him." Mary raised an eyebrow, remembering having to explain a beheaded nun to her old friend.

"Who knows," John smiled, "maybe he'll find some interest in the cases. You know how kids are." John pulled Mary into a hug, and kissed her forehead. "You do know he already calls him Uncle Sherlock."

"How could I not?" Mary unraveled herself out of John's grip and looked back at her vanity, trying to insert the earrings that John had bought her the week before.

* * *

With already informing Mrs. Hudson that John was bringing over little Hamish, Sherlock tried to tidy up the flat. "Baby proof" as Mrs. Hudson suggested.

"Children can get into all sorts of things." Mrs. Hudson warned Sherlock, glancing over at his kitchen table. A clutter of beakers and severed body parts scattered it, covering the whole wooden surface.

"He's three," Sherlock sighed. "I'm pretty sure he can't get into my experiments that easily without any proper help."

"Don't you get any ideas, Mister!" Mrs. Hudson scolded, as she turned abruptly and left the flat, leaving Sherlock smirking to himself.

It was 5:38, so he had over an hour to hide anything that could count as unsanitary, illegal, scaring, poisonous, or cautious.

* * *

Nearly an hour later that he knocked on Mrs. Hudson's door.

"Yes dear?" She answered.

"Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock cleared his throat. "Would you, by any chance, know how to take care of a small child?"

"Oh," Mrs. Hudson couldn't help but smile, "you have no clue what you're doing, do you?"

"Not really..." Sherlock trailed off, trying to find a believable explanation for why he has no idea how take care of little Hamish.

"It's okay, dear. I didn't expect you to.". She smiled and patted his back, before trying to explain child care to him. After around 10 minutes of Mrs. Hudson covering the basics, there was a knock at the door. "If you need any help, just come and get us." She winked, as Sherlock got up to answer it.

"John." He smiled as nonchalantly as he could, stepping aside to lead John inside. John carried a bulky bag and Hamish in his arms carefully into the building, and gently handed them to Sherlock carefully.

Holding his left index finger up to his own lips, he looked admirably Hamish, then up to Sherlock.

"He's sleeping," John whispered into Sherlock's ear. "He fell asleep in the cab. He's been going on about you all day, about how he can't wait to see Uncle Sherlock." John looked up, smiling warmly at Sherlock before lightly patting him on the back. "I really have to dash, Mary's waiting for me. All the supplies are in this bag, and don't hesitated to ring us up if you're having problems." 

Sherlock watched as John left the building, closing the door lightly behind him. Sherlock let out a brief sigh, trying to push back whatever was causing him pain. He had to remind himself over and over that things were never going to be the same as they were. John's got Mary and Hamish, and Sherlock has... well... Sherlock. It's no longer Sherlock and John, or even Sherlock, John, and Mary. It's John, Mary, and Hamish, then that bloke who just so happens to be very close. 

Carefully making his way up the creaking, old stairs, he thought of who was going to spend the next few hours with. He had already committed to protecting Hamish before Mary and John knew he was on the way. He didn't know how much he'd care about Hamish until he was born.

The day that Hamish Watson was born was a great day for London. Not only had it not rained yet, but it also was the day that London gained another great man. A new consulting detective, as Sherlock tried to put it, but John tried to convince Sherlock that he was not going to raise his son to follow in the footsteps of his idiotic genius of a Godfather. Sherlock just replied that John really shouldn't think of it a bad way, since he would have never met Mary if he didn't meet that idiotic genius, but Sherlock was really trying to say that John would be nowhere without this idiotic genius. 

* * *

Hamish slept for around 15 minutes before he stirred awake. Sherlock quickly took notice since he placed him on the sofa next to him as he read about recent cases. 

Realizing that he was in 221b made Hamish immediately joyous. He glanced up to see Sherlock sitting right next to him, and he reached out his arms and grasped Sherlock's Shirt. His blonde hair mimicked John's, as well as his eyes and nose. 

Sherlock smiled and lifted Hamish up and balanced him on his knee, holding onto his small hands as Hamish wobbled gleefully. 

"Hamish," Sherlock smirked. "Have you been good?"

"Yes!" He exclaimed cheerfully. He had an extremely advanced vocabulary for only being just over 3 years old. "Papa said he was very proud of me. I can already count to 50!" He raised his arms up, trying to spread his arms to show how much he'd learned. He looked at Sherlock and smiled. "You promised me something..."

"Yes, I suppose I did, didn't I?" Sherlock smiled back, setting Hamish gently down on the sofa while he stood up to grab a file off of his desk. Once he had the file, he picked Hamish up again, and placed him on his lap. Handing Hamish the file, Hamish gently opened the manila folder to expose pictures of a murder. 

"Now, age range." Sherlock questioned, although he already knew the answer. It was an older case that he'd finished months ago, but it seemed like the type that Hamish would enjoy.

"He's older. Around..." Hamish picked up a picture, squinted at it, and looked up at Sherlock. "Mid 40's." 

"Very good." Sherlock praised him, planting a light kiss on his forehead as Hamish looked back at the pictures.

"There isn't that much blood..." Hamish looked curiously at the picture, holding it very close to his face. 

"That must mean, what?" 

"It wasn't a brutal murder, or maybe not even a murder." Hamish squeaked proudly, squinting his nose as he smiled. 

Sherlock nodded as he help up more pictures of evidence. "This was found next to the man," Sherlock help up a picture of a journal, "it was empty." Hamish just looked at Sherlock like he was insane. 

"Why did a dead man have an empty journal?" 

"Why wouldn't he?" Sherlock joked, knowing he couldn't be too serious on the boy, he couldn't explain the whole case to him. "So what was it, suicide or murder?" 

"Suicide."

"Explain."

"Isn't it obvious?" Hamish tried to do Sherlock's face that he made when people were being idiots.

Sherlock just blinked at him. "True." He finally said after a minute, making Hamish giggle. Sherlock gathered the pictures into the file, then left placed the file beside him. "What would you like to do next?"

"Crime scene!" Hamish responded quickly, with a gleam in his eye.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because your father said nothing harmful."

"Does that mean no experiments?"

"I'm afraid so."

Hamish looked at Sherlock with mischief twinkling in them. "He doesn't have to know."

Sherlock thought for a second, then smiled. "Well..." Sherlock let out a gigantic sigh. "I suppose, if you really wanted-"

"Oh- yes, yes, yes!" Hamish jumped up and down, making no effort to contain his excitement. 

Sherlock picked him up and carried him over to the table, then settled him into a chair. Standing across from where he was sitting, Sherlock looked down at Hamish. "What shall we start with?"

"Different types of toxins?" Hamish rested his head on his folded hands that laid on the table, even though his head barely reached the top of it.

Sherlock agreed to the idea, and pulled out his equipment, checking every now and again to see Hamish's eyes widen as he carefully looked at whatever had been newly placed on the table.

* * *

When it was the time for Hamish to go to bed, he wanted to do anything but sleep, but Sherlock insisted on making sure he'd do as he told.

"But why must I sleep?" Hamish asked, face down on the sofa. 

"Because," Sherlock answered, facing the bookshelf, rummaging through it, looking for a book, "I told you so. That's why." Sherlock looked sternly and Hamish, as Hamish started kicking the couch. 

Hamish scoffed and rolled his eyes, sitting up and folding his hands on his lap. He watched as Sherlock returned with a leather bound book.

"This, Hamish, is a book."

Hamish gave Sherlock an exhausted look. "I'm not stupid."

"I know you know what a book is, it's just, this is a special book. Inside this book is an adventure. An adventure that's waiting for you, all you have to do is turn the page." 

Crawling onto Sherlock's Lap, Hamish positioned himself so he could look at the words as Sherlock read. He snuggled himself up to Sherlock, holding onto his wrists as his eyes glazed the pages. 

"The Hobbit..." Hamish read out, looking at the book cover. 

As Sherlock spent the next few hours reading the book out loud to Hamish, stopping every chapter to try to talk Hamish into sleeping, but he was persistent to have Sherlock finish the book. Hamish giggled at Sherlock's voices, and held tighter onto Sherlock's wrists when there were frightening parts. It was nearly 3:30 AM when they finally finished. 

Hamish yawned and turned around and clung onto Sherlock's shirt. "I don't want to sleep." Hamish's muffled voice just nearly surfaced. 

"Well..." Sherlock dipped into his Smaug voice, the one that Hamish thought was the best, and started poking at his sides. "I guess I could just eat you instead. That'd save you the trouble of ever sleeping again..." 

Hamish giggled loudly and shook his arms frantically. "Stop it!" He cried out, still laughing. "That tickles!"

Sherlock sighs and stops, pulling Hamish off his lap and gently placing him down, and grabbed his violin from the table. Hamish ran and grabbed his blanket from his bag, and sat back down of the sofa.

Sherlock played the most calming melody he knew, and as it finished, he noticed Hamish struggling to stay awake. His eyes were heavy and they blinked every few seconds. Placing the violin down, Sherlock joined Hamish at the end of the couch. Hamish curled up on Sherlock's lap, grabbing Sherlock's right arm and hugging it as he dozed off. 

"Good night, Uncle Sherlock." He smiled, as he drifted off.

"Good night." Sherlock lightly kissed the top of Hamish's hair.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this might be a start of a series with little Hamish and Uncle Sherlock's adventures... It all depends on how you guys liked this :)


End file.
